


Entertainment in Inferno

by KathyPrior42



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: 66.6 FM, Alastor in Hell, Alternate Universe, Asexual Alastor, Canon Alastor, Jambalaya Demon, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23324392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KathyPrior42/pseuds/KathyPrior42
Summary: Conquering areas of Hell, broadcasting massacres, singing songs...those were some of the many hobbies of the infamous Radio Demon. More questions arise: who were his lady friends? How did he get Niffty and Husk involved? What happens when he encounters his demonic father...and with his mother in Heaven, is there any chance he can be redeemed and see her again?Takes place after "Murder on the Air" (Alastor's human life in New Orleans)Staring:Alastor the Radio DemonLord Neleus (Alastor's father)Lady Poena (Alastor's mother)HuskNifftyMimzy HanniganRosie PoppinsVoxPapa LegbaBaron SamediKalfuRotsala (Alastor's Shadow)Dave (Alastor's Microphone)
Relationships: Alastor's Father/Alastor's Mother (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor/Charlie Magne, Alastor/Mimzy (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor/Rosie (Hazbin Hotel), Neleus and Poena
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter One: Alastor Enters Hell

Black empty space.

Complete total silence.

He felt like he was floating in some kind of void. Where he was, he didn’t know.

He had no form, no physical sensations of any kind. 

For a moment he just…was.

A small white light emerged from the dark above, and steadily grew. Though it was blinding, the light didn’t bother him.

“Alastor…Alastor…”

A choir of vocals were speaking the repeated word in the distance. The voices grew louder as he felt himself rising upward. The word felt comforting to him, and sounded strangely familiar. 

“Alastor…”

He suddenly stopped and saw a golden gate up ahead within white clouds. A winged figure puffed up his white wings and stared at him.

“I am Puriel,” the angel said. He had a white face with red blotches on his cheeks, yellow eyes and short bronze gold hair. He was dressed in white dress pants, a white shirt, a golden bowtie, and matching shoes.

“I am an examiner of souls and one of many who determine where one goes in the afterlife.”

He spoke an incantation.

“Alastor Roscoe Cajun,” Puriel stated. “Here is your previous form.”

Alastor gasped as he suddenly remembered his name. A flood of memories of his past life rushed back to him.

Alastor stared down at himself and saw his human reflection in front of him. A thin man with a pointed chin stared back at him with chocolate brown eyes and small round glasses. His skin was a very light brown, looking almost white. His hair color was in-between brown and red, short with a bit of a wave pointing to one side. The longest parts of his hair were slightly past his ears, reaching toward his chin. 

A large black bowtie was positioned below his neck. His undershirt was white with buttons and crisscrossing lines forming a few diamonds. The design resembled the structure of a radio tower. Along with tan pants and brown boots, he wore a candy red pinstriped coat with dark red stripes going vertically down toward his waist.  
What was disturbing about his reflection was a small red x on his forehead between his eyes that seemed to be glowing. His clothes were stained with blood as was the side of his face. 

Alastor sprouted a large grin and instantly felt better. He said his name out loud, surprised to hear his voice.

The angel in front of him continued. “Alastor Roscoe Cajun, born in New Orleans to French American Joseph Duvalier and Creole American Loretta Duvalier. Entered Earth January 24th, 1896 at 3:00AM. Died in 1933 in the woods via a gunshot to the head and mauling by dogs.”

A brief flashback of him running from the police, trying to hide in the woods. Hearing the growling of canines and being surrounded by sharp teeth. A loud gunshot and an exploding pain through his head. Briefly seeing a buck in the distance before things went black. 

Puriel looked through an endless holographic list of souls. He turned to Alastor with a glare.

“Due to the endless number of people you killed, you are not fit to enter Heaven. You are to either enter Hell, purgatory, Tartarus…” he listed off dark places from other cultures…

“…or go back to the endless void, as those who die a second death are fated to go.”  
Alastor could feel a strange sensation, like someone, or something was tugging at his chest. It seemed to come from far below. He suddenly felt the need to follow it.

Having read his mind, Puriel nodded, a look of disgust on his face. “Your fate has been decided. Suffering and death will be there to meet you, unless you can somehow redeem yourself. Farewell.”

The angel and the golden gate vanished, the darkness filling in again. Like the sudden drop of a roller coaster, Alastor felt himself plummeting rapidly down through the dark. 

He literally screamed into the void.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

He thought he briefly saw a familiar blue and green planet out in space, but everything rushed by too quickly for him to comprehend.

Breaking through dark ground, falling further into hot magma, uncomfortable heat that was even hotter than the sun…

Falling ever so endlessly, until he rushed through an opening portal in a crimson sky, the rim surrounded by flames. 

Down below, a group of little red skinned imps were forcing enchanted voodoo dolls made of straw to dance on hot coals. Red glowing chains held the dolls in place around their necks, the magic coming from the lead imp’s claws. The lead imp cackled, wearing ringmaster’s clothing and a round hat while the other imps jeered. A few demons watched the show from a distance. Several circus tents were lined nearby. The lead imp looked up in horror as the yelling figure fell down…and crushed him, creating a giant crater in the ground. The chains disappeared and the dolls cheered. They jumped over the coals and chased away their tormentors with sizzling silver pins. 

The imp and Alastor fell through another portal, this time into a dark void. Alastor landed hard on his back despite no visible structure being there. He coughed and slowly stood up, brushing off dirt and ash from his hair and clothes. The imp rubbed his long horns in pain and stood up too. The imp glared at Alastor, baring his fangs, but was quickly held into place via black tentacles pinning down his arms and legs. The imp yelled before being consumed by rows of sharp white teeth that appeared in the dark. 

Alastor remained perfectly still, not even daring to breathe. (Not that he really could, anymore.) The black space was nothing like the silent void of death. In fact, it was more like an ocean of dark matter, humid heat and…

…things that were alive.

Shadow spirits ebbed and flowed through the endless space, some with glowing white eyes, others with horns, all of them blending in within the dark. Shrieks, moans, and the occasional cackle filled the air. 

“Hello darkness, my old friend,” Alastor spoke to himself.

“Hello to you as well,” said a voice from behind him.

Alastor spun around and only saw darkness. 

“Over here,” said the voice, in a distorted eerie tone. 

He looked to the side and nearly gasped. Surrounded by an aura of red was a shadow of what looked like a skeletal humanoid deer. The figure stood upright with large white holes for eyes and sharp teeth inside its mouth. A pair of large antlers sat around shadow deer ears and a mess of hair. A claw gripped Alastor’s shoulders.

“Who are you?” Alastor asked.

“I am you,” the shadow replied. “I was born from your deepest nightmares, nestled in your subconscious. All of your evil thoughts, your fear, your rage…and your desire for vengeance. Those thoughts nourished me. Every kill you made on Earth brought you one step closer to not only death, but also to the Loas, and myself. Once you died, I was born with this shadow vessel, and separated from your mind. I traveled down here, to my home, knowing you would come. Now we are reunited at last.”

“But you’re not a part of me anymore,” Alastor said.  
“Yes and no,” the shadow said. “Though I have my own body, I am still a reflection of your true feelings, your true motivations. So, naturally, once we get to Hell I’ll be your…guide, as it were.”

“But we can’t go back to Hell. Aren’t we stuck down here?”

“Not for long,” said the shadow. He pointed down to Alastor’s arm. Alastor looked and saw three glowing red voodoo symbols etched onto it in blood.

Alastor could sense other ancient beings moving closer to him, speaking in ghostly whispers. 

The shadow continued, “Your debt to the Loas and specifically to Lord Kalfu has been paid. A sacrifice of loved ones in addition to your own gruesome death…bestows upon you, neigh unlimited power.”

It all happened before Alastor had the chance to blink. Shadow creatures rapidly circled around him and black tentacles enveloped his entire body like a macabre cocoon. Alastor yelled as his human skin cracked, and peeled off his body in fleshy chunks, which soon faded into dust. Muscle and bone also disintegrated rapidly. Surprisingly, it wasn’t agonizing. It was more like the natural process of a snake shedding its old skin to make way for something new.

He felt formless, naked and cold, but soon warmed up as new flesh formed where his old exterior shell once was.

His new skin and face were grayish in color. Empty dark sockets took up much of his face, the home of his new demonic red eyes. Soon, other body features formed: thin gray arms, legs, four fingered hands and four-toed feet…an anatomy of a male human, though definitely not human at all.

Alastor opened his mouth and sharp yellow fangs slowly emerged from the top and bottom. They closed together to form a wide sinister smile. 

Thick red hair grew on Alastor’s head, pointing out in a slight wave toward the right like his previous human form. Tuffs of hair ending slightly past his chin on either side completed the look, ending with black colored tips. Instead of round earlobes, thick fluffy deer-shaped ears grew from the sides of his head, ending in black furry tips. In addition, small black antlers stuck out in the middle of his head, along with a fluffy black and red deer tail that appeared near his tailbone. 

Alastor waved his hand in front of his right eye, and an old fashioned monocle appeared under it, connected by a thin chain. A burgundy pinstriped dress coat and a red undershirt materialized and covered his body. The ends of the coat were filled with several holes, giving it a tattered feel. An upside down black cross lay under a large black bowtie in place under his chin and neck. He wore the same color pants, plus black shoes with red deer hoof prints on the soles. Black gloves with red tips covered his four-clawed hands. 

With his new form complete, the tentacles released Alastor and parted away. 

Tingling hot red electricity spread into his head, then moved down his body, much of it resting in his hands and fingers. He snapped on instinct and a burst of red magic sparked to life like a firework. 

Then knowledge of magic and voodoo spells entered into his brain. The new information faded into the back of his head, staying there like he had it within him all his life.

“HEHEHEHEHAHAHAHA!”

Alastor let out a maniacal laugh that rose higher into hysterical giggles. All this supernatural power was coursing through his veins, and he loved every second of it. 

Finally the magic quietly faded with a humming sound.

“One more thing,” said Alastor’s shadow, suddenly. “You’ll need this.”

An old vintage microphone staff materialized in his right hand. A glowing red eye appeared on the top, where the speaker was.

“About time you showed up,” came a voice from the device. It was a male voice with a radio filter over it. It sounded like an announcer on a broadcast. 

“You were expecting me?” Alastor asked.

“Part of the deal with Kalfu,” the microphone replied. “Just turn me on and you can broadcast what’s going on around you, anytime, anywhere.”

Alastor grinned again. He was already enjoying this opportunity.

“Enjoy yourself while you can,” said his shadow before disappearing behind him.

The microphone muttered something about already feeling trapped but Alastor didn’t listen.

He was already planning his next move.

“What am I waiting for?!” he asked out loud. He concentrated on the space in front of him and a portal opened back to Hell. He stepped through it and it closed behind him. 

This would be the beginning of Alastor’s many conquests of Hell…and his new title of The Radio Demon.

Hell was in for an insane awakening…for a Wendigo had been born.

Back somewhere in New Orleans, Alastor’s old radios had been moved to an antique shop in the French Quarter. All of them were arranged separately on shelves among TVs, pots, figures and other objects. Night had fallen and no one was in the store. 

All traces of the infamous serial killer had been lost to memory. 

With no explanation, the oldest radio blinked to life, the outer speakers and knobs blinking faint yellow lights. The hum of static filled the air. It had belonged to Alastor. 

A demonic voice said in a low radio voice, “Stay tuned,” and ended with low laughter.


	2. Chapter Two: Exterminations

During one random day, the clock tower ringed twelve ominous tones. Alastor was strutting down the street when he heard the noise. He glanced up at the tower where a counter read “number of days till next purge: 0.”

“Purge?” he thought. “Sounds intriguing. Some kind of killing contest between overlords?”

Alastor soon got his answer when the center of the overhead neon pentagram in the sky tore open. Through a dark hole, dark flying creatures swarmed out and headed off in different directions. There were at least twenty of them, perhaps more.

Upon closer inspection, they were dark angels with black feathery wings, curved horns and bird-like feet clad in dark armor. They wore LED masks complete with creepy glowing grins, large x’s over their right eyes and curved horns off to the back, reaching past behind their heads. Each one also carried a harpoon spear in their hands.

One angel threw a spear that struck a flying demon square in the eye. The demon fell to the ground, lifeless. Another harpoon struck an orange horned demon in the neck, resulting in a gory death. A lone spear flew and lodged itself in the wall right above Alastor’s head.

All around the city, demons were screaming and scurrying frantically for cover. Several Exterminators circled over the cowering citizens of Hell with mechanical laughs.

“Cleanse Hell of the sinner scum!” rang out on of the angel’s voices.

With a spin and swipe of a harpoon from another angel, other demons dropped dead like bowling pins.

One of the angels glanced over to Alastor. Two other angels glanced over too, all turning their heads, grins glowing.

Alastor hid his shock with a sinister smile of his own. The shock quickly morphed into a new excitement.

“Prepare to meet your second death,” said the angel in the middle.

“Am I supposed to be sacred of you crows?” he asked.

Alastor was surrounded by the three angels hovering above him, spears raised.  
His eyes turned into red radio dials and his black antlers grew slightly longer from his head.

“This is going to be quite entertaining!”

The three spears flew forward and black tentacles reached and slapped the weapons away.

Just as the harpoons appeared back in the Exterminator’s hands, shadow spirits with red auras circles around the angels, screeching, clawing and attacking them. One angel flapped and flailed, shaking off several spirits by striking them with a swipe of his spear. A tentacle impaled the angel through his gut from behind them. The second angel got his wings torn off by two other black tentacles emerging from portals in midair. A shadow spirit grabbed the angel’s spear and sliced off its owner’s head, falling into one of the portals.

The third angel began to flee, but Alastor grabbed hold of one of the angel’s dark arms. The Exterminator elbowed Alastor and scratched his chest with long nails. Alastor glanced down at the tears and new flowing blood soaking into his red pinstriped dress coat.

He growled darkly in a demonic voice. “That was my favorite suit.”

The Radio Demon soon had the angel in a chokehold with one of his four-fingered gloved hands.

“L-let go, filth!” the angel sputtered with a gasp.

Using his strength, Alastor bashed the angel down hard against the pavement several times. He soon heard a satisfying crack as his victim’s head split open and the dark horns fell off. He tossed the angel’s body aside for the nearby voodoo imps to consume.

Tom Trench, a white-haired guy with a gray face mask for a face and a business suit appeared on screen. 666 News logo appeared in neon behind him.

“Breaking news! Exterminators have invaded Hell once again, with an even greater number than last year. Pandemonium is in the air as Heaven’s army slaughters citizens right and left at random, to reduce the population, as is tradition. Please, for your own safety, stay indoors and on lock down. If you’re looking to take over new territory, please refrain from doing so during the rampage. It’ll be up for grabs after the purge…if you’re still alive, of course.”  
There was a sound of glass breaking from the news room as a spear flew over Tom Trench’s head.

“That’s all for today! This is Tom Trench, 666 News at 5. Until next time, have a great eve…”

Tom Trench fled the scene with a scream as an LED wearing angel eclipsed the screen and smashed it, causing static.

Alastor stood still for a moment…then burst into a laughing fit.

“Who ho ho! What a great picture show. Wasn’t expecting that nice surprise during this time.”

He made a mental note to not let the angel’s spears touch him. Forged in the fires of the sun and metal crafted from holy silver, one strike from a harpoon could instantly kill demons.

Then he got a crazy idea…a plan that only someone confident and courageous like him could come up with.

“Perhaps I should broadcast my acts of destruction on those Exterminators…”

More spears flew in the air, crackling with electricity. Alastor saw more angels fly through the overhead hole. Alastor glanced at his stinging chest.

“One more act it is then.”

His red vintage microphone staff appeared in his right hand and lit up to life. The eye in the center of the microphone moved from side to side.

“You want to take things even further, do you not?” asked a radio voice from the microphone.

“You know me too well,” he replied. “But then again, you are a part of me, so of course you would.”

Alastor lifted himself into the air with a large tentacle, red voodoo symbols surrounding him. He tapped the staff and it blinked on. A beam of light shone down from the eye. 

“Well good evening, little sinners! It’s your one any only host, Alastor, the Radio Demon. Right now, I’m in the midst of a bloody battle between you citizens and the infamous Exterminators. It looks like several denizens of Hell have already fallen prey to the invaders. One angel’s beating up an imp pretty bad over there. Another demon with a spear through her mouth by the store window, doesn’t look too good for her…”

Four angels flew headfirst toward Alastor, only to be knocked back by red energy flowing from Alastor’s body. One unlucky angel got set on fire with a simple snap of the demon’s fingers. The angel let out a rather unholy yell before disintegrating. Tan colored Voodoo imps with horns, fancy clothing, sharp teeth, and top hats waved their knives and rode on flying animal skeletons in the air. One of them even rode a transparent dragon who breathed red fire at the Exterminators (and sinners) below. Other imps with glowing white eye sin black sockets were carrying sticks with skulls attached to them as they marched in the streets. 

Alastor’s hands and microphone were splattered with fresh blood. He fooled with the angels for several more minutes and spoke into his microphone. “Time for some jokes, my friends. What do you call a rejected do-gooder from Heaven?”

Alastor punched a charging angel in the face, sending him flying.

“A fallen angel! Ahhahahaha.”

Several exterminators down below were disintegrating Alastor’s shadow spirits with beams of light from their hands. One angel shot beams of light at the Radio Demon, who dodged each one. Her hair was long and blonde in the back. The angel roared in anger and shot light spears in every direction. Tentacles around Alastor blocked her attacks.

“Wow, that angel over there looks pretty mad…”

She looped and spun herself rapidly toward him, her hand in a fist. Her fist stopped right in front of Alastor’s face. He grabbed hold of her chest tight with one hand and karate-chopped her head off with his other hand.

“…I guess you could say she lost her head! Hahahaha!”

He dropped her headless body and continued swatting angels away like flies.

After a few more moments, Alastor was getting bored. It was time for the grand finale. He stood on a platform of surrounding tentacles.

He curled his right hand into a fist, sharp pointed nails digging into his now-glowing palm. Several large drops of red blood rained down from his hand, falling to the ground.

Several flaming holes appeared in the air around the flying exterminators. Tentacles wrapped around each of their waists, binding their hands and pulling back their wings. Their harpoons were tossed into the portals by separate tentacles. At least a dozen angels were brought close together, each of them bond by tentacles.

Voodoo symbols surrounded Alastor and his eyes briefly turned dark, displaying radio waves sizzling across them. His black antlers now extended far beyond his head.

Long thick shadows rose from the ground until forming into two swirling shadows on either side of the tied up angels. The shadows slowed, and solidified into two large gray four-clawed hands. The pointed fingernails were yellow, the same color as a spot down the middle of each finger.

Indeed, the large hands were uncovered copies of Alastor’s real hands.

The staff vanished. From a distance, Alastor lined up his own hands with the giant ones, which copied his hand movements.  
Then, inch by inch, the hands closed in.

The angels stared in fear behind their gruesome masks, struggling to free themselves from their bonds. The remaining angels outside looked on in worry. A few bowed their heads and mouthed silent prayers.

The large curved fingers overlapped seconds after Alastor slowly interlocked his own. An invisible force tried to push the palms of his hands apart. But his hands closed in more, like he was molding invisible clay to his liking.

“For my final act of tonight, you shall witness…”

The last of the angel’s heads and struggling forms disappeared behind gray fingers and flesh.

With an evil grin and a glow of his eyes, Alastor pushed his own glowing hands together.

The large hands closed with a shuddering shake. Muffled crunching and squelching came from inside. Alastor opened up his hands and the giant ones followed. A shower of blood, bits of body parts, and black feathers rained down to the street.

He finished in a low demonic voice, “…the Exterminators’ crushing defeat.”

Applause erupted from his microphone as the large hands deformed and sent out shadowy creatures which vanished through the last several portals before they closed. The remaining angels shivered and fled through the black hole overhead. Alastor’s antlers receded back to normal size.

“Well, folks, that’s all for tonight. I hope you enjoyed this remarkable demonstration of my amazing power. This is Alastor, 66.6 FM. Until next time, have a splendid evening…and as always, stay tuned!”

No one said a word as the Radio Demon lowered himself to the ground. The tentacles and portals vanished behind him. He stared at his bleeding hand and wrist. Light-headedness overtook him. He waved his hand one more time and stepped down into a portal, which soon closed above him.

He breathed a sigh of relief. He was back in his lair, a bizarre home-like hideout floating in a void dimension just underneath Hell. It was a place where the Loa and dark spirits roamed.

Using so much power and blood magic had taken a bit of a stretch on his body. Gray circles were under his eyes, barely noticeable. With a yawn, he went into a bathroom to clean his wounds. The two handled faucets were made of gold and shaped like miniature deer heads. A black clawed bathtub decorated with large eyes stood in the center of the room.

After washing up and changing into a red velvet night gown, Alastor wandered past the living room, a room with a blood red rug, a couch, comfy leather chairs, and a fireplace of black flames. Above the mantle on the wall were stuffed deer heads mounted on display of various colors and states of decay. Rifles and several angel weapons were displayed in a darker corner of the room. Walking into the kitchen, Alastor pulled out venison deer meat from the icebox and heated it up on the stove. He hummed “You’re Never Fully Dressed” as he cooked.

After he ate his meal, he made his way into his room down the hall. Inside his room was a large bed with a leather comforter and satin red pillows. An old fashioned Picture Box with two antennae sticking out stood nearby. Several different radios were lined up on a polished wooden dresser with a vanity mirror framed with round lights around it. Inside his closet were his suits neatly hung and shoes in a holder. Voodoo dolls resembling himself, Husk, Charlie, Angel and others were lined up in a black cabinet.

Alastor yawned again and climbed up into his bed. He soon had a small relaxed grin on his face. The lights went off after he waved his hand. His eyes dimmed and turned into small red radio dials. The droning sound of a radio powering off briefly filled the room as Alastor slept with his eyes wide open.


	3. Chapter Three: Killing Spree for Three

Several years had passed since the Radio Demon had terrorized tons of provinces in Hell. It had started in 1933 shortly after his mortal death, when he fell down into Hell and was granted his powers by the Loas, Voodoo shadow spirits. Alastor, of course, had taken advantage of his new demonic deer-like form and Eldritch abilities, using his vintage microphone staff to broadcast his victories and carnage wherever he went. His sentient shadow had hovered by his side with an ever-present smile on his face like his counterpart.  
During his time in Hell, Alastor had conjured looming metal radio towers and stations in the areas he had claimed. Despite being new to Hell in 1933, he quickly figured out the functions of Hell’s hierarchy.  
Lucifer and Lilith were the powerful King and Queen, not to be tested with nor disobeyed. It was safe to assume that they knew everything that went on throughout the fiery realm. This was why Alastor never revealed his plans out loud…or if he did, he morphed the meaning into something more superficial.  
Sinners, or those that had previously been human, were considered the lowest of the low in terms of class. They were the majority in Hell but also faced various forms of discrimination. Without his powers and charisma, Alastor would’ve fit the lowest sinner category.  
Alastor was already familiar with being a societal outcast. Back in New Orleans as a human, he had been mocked and jeered at for being part white and part Creole. It was a time when racism ran rampant and white elites got to enjoy the most luxuries. If it weren’t for is mother and radio career, he would’ve rotted away in jail or in poverty. 

But unlike his previous life, Alastor was much more prepared, and powerful. The Hellborns included imps, hellhounds and other creatures born in Hell, considered “superior” to sinners. However, even the Hellborn were nothing compared to the Overlords, powerful demon rulers with abilities beyond average. Alastor had become an overlord the moment he broadcast his first massacre in a dark gnarled wood. 

It was not uncommon for overlords to not get along and to fight over turf, slaves, drugs and other commodities. Vox, the TV demon, Valentino the Porn Studio owner, and Velvet the doll demon were sometimes called the Three V villains. Vox and Alastor did not get along, for Alastor despised post 30’s technology. Alastor had also defeated Sir Pentious, an inventor snake demon who was previously born during the Industrial Revolution. Though that was so long ago, that he had forgotten who he was fighting with. 

Currently, Alastor had control over a voodoo doll and imp army, could summon shadow spirits at will and create portals to the “other side.” He even created his own interdimensional lair underneath Hell. 

Alas, just those benefits weren’t good enough. Alastor was a man constantly on the lookout for other sources of influence and entertainment. Why would he settle for anything less in his second “life?” Being one of the most powerful demons in Hell was no small feat. He required other allies and servants… those who were citizens themselves. Humming happily with his usual smile on his face, Alastor made his way into the city.

Under the red sky, monsters and demons of all shapes and sizes wondered the pot-hole covered streets of Pentagram City. A neon Pentagram hovered over in the sky, a symbolic reminder to those below where they were. However, the demons went about their ways like ordinary humans would on Earth. Teen Hellhound females smoked cigarettes while leaning against a wall. A black furry spider demon got into an argument with a zombie over a meth purchase. The zombie punched the spider in the gut and in turn, the spider knocked the zombie’s head clean off. The head yelled swear words as it plopped to the ground. 

From inside a strip club, Angel Dust, a white spider demon was spinning upside down on a pole onstage. He was dressed in nothing but red lacy underwear, his legs spread wide for the viewers to see. Techno music was muffled by the window. Two snakes chased each other loudly and bust into the club, briefly catching Alastor’s attention. One demon spotted the Radio Demon from outside and fainted from terror. Angel Dust puckered his mouth in a kiss and waved at Alastor. Alastor rolled his red eyes in disgust and walked on. 

A vertical neon sign on a street corner displayed a yellow saxophone with white musical notes coming out of it. The words along the side read “Mimzy’s Club and Bar.”  
“Mimzy…” Alastor said out loud. “That name sounds very familiar.”  
He went up to open the door and walked inside.

He was greeted by the upbeat sounds of trumpets, drums, a saxophone and even a piano not too far away. Demons wearing cowboy hats and mustaches were playing pool far in the back. Against one wall was a pink neon sign which read “Drinking” over a display of bottles. A humanoid couple dressed in Day of the Dead outfits were smooching in a booth filled with cigarette smoke. A red horned ogre dressed in gray Viking armor was serving up mugs of beer and alcohol to customers sitting on stools at the tall obsidian counter. 

Just then, a short demon dressed like a jester with a stripped hat complete with bells stood up from his chair. He looked up and saw Alastor’s pale grayish face leering down at him. The jester gasped in fright and scurried backward. “It-it’s the Radio Demon!”  
The music abruptly stopped and the chatter ceased. Everyone turned to stare at him, fear, anger, and for a few, excitement in their eyes. Alastor snapped his fingers and a spotlight appeared over him.  
“Hello, there fellow sinners! How are you all doing this fine evening?”  
Nobody said a word.  
He chuckled and held out his hands. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to harm anyone. I’ve just come by to relax and have a drink. Nothing wrong with that, right?”  
Several demons quickly shook their heads and muttered affirmations. Alastor glanced at the jazz band on stage and tilted his head. “Aren’t you going to play some tunes for us?”  
The band members started their next song, making sure it was loud and catchy.  
Several other demons moved out of the way to let him pass.  
Alastor tilted his hand toward his chest. “Ah, such pleasant company here!”  
The spotlight faded as Alastor took a seat at the bar.  
The Viking ogre turned to look at him.  
“Haven’t seen you here before.”  
“Surely you know who I am?”  
The ogre shook his head, unfazed. The others turned to the bartender, with concerned looks.  
“Well,” said Alastor, “It’s nice to meet you, good chap.”  
The ogre just grunted in response.  
“I’ll have a small black coffee and a glass of Sazerac liquor, please.” Sazerac was one of the first cocktails in New Orleans.  
The ogre nodded. “7 souls each.”  
Alastor placed 13 dark coins with a small eye on each one on the counter. The ogre scooped them up in his meaty hand and turned to get the drinks ready.  
“Heh, heh, he forgot to count them,” Alastor thought. 

His black coffee was soon brought out in a small white mug on a white plate. Carefully picking up the mug by the round handle with several claws, Alastor softly blew over the cup before taking a sip. A satisfying bitter heat filled his mouth. It filled his core with warmth and made him feel more alert, just like it did every morning during his past life. He took more sips and closed his eyes in content. For a millisecond, unnoticed by anyone, his face briefly morphed into his human one: light brown skin, thin pointed chin, brown eyes and short brown hair with a wave off to one side. Small round glasses were placed over his nose. Then, just as quickly, his face returned to his current one: grayish pale, yellow teeth, red eyes, red and black hair, monocle under his right eye. 

After several musical numbers had played, Alastor’s next drink had arrived. Alastor noticed something was not right.  
“Uh excuse me?” he asked.  
“What?” asked the ogre.  
“I asked for a glass of Sazerac. Why did you get me noodle juice?”  
He stared at the cup of brown tea on the counter in disgust.  
The ogre shrugged. “We ran out of that kind of liquor. That fellow over there ordered the last one.”  
He pointed to a shark demon finishing up the rest of his liquor bottle before smashing it on the floor and pushing open the doors.  
“Heheheheh…excuse me for a second,” Alastor said.  
He stood up and followed the bipedal shark outside. The visitors sitting in booths and chairs could hear muffled pounding, grunts, and stomps coming from outside. At one point, a dark tentacle appeared out of nowhere and then vanished. The gray shark’s head was slammed against the window, slowly sliding down covered in red blood. The demons shrugged, turned back around and continued chatting.  
The Radio Demon stomped back into the room, smile on his face but anger in his eyes. The ogre seemed to be whispering something to someone hidden in the back. Alastor spoke to the bartender, composed, hiding his frustration. “I believe we were at the part where I asked you…why did you serve me noodle juice?”  
“I already told you, we were out of liquor.”  
“How does a bar run out of liquor so suddenly?”  
“How should I know?”  
“Do you have anything else?”  
The ogre occupied himself with cleaning a mug.  
“Besides noodle juice?”  
A muffled giggle came from behind a set of curtains. He waved his hand and the curtains pulled back. A demon with black wings, horns, and a hat with a domino on it was laying on the floor with several empty bottles of Sazerac around him. He whispered to the ogre who turned around, “You lost the bet, you fucking lard. I told you he’d say “noodle juice” when you gave him tea.”  
“I ain’t giving you any money,” the ogre whispered. “I’m the one who pranked the prankster.”  
The horned demon stopped laughing and narrowed his eyes. “6.6 souls, hand them over.”  
Radio static suddenly filled the air. “You think I’m a joke to you?”  
The horned demon turned around and his eyes met Alastor’s before he was plunged down into a portal that appeared from underneath him. The black tentacle monster swallowed the prankster demon in one gulp. The portal closed and Alastor stared at the ogre. He sat down in his seat.  
“Kindly fetch me a bottle of Sazerac before I hang you from the ceiling with your intestines.”  
The ogre gulped and ran out of the room. He was stopped by a sharp tentacle slicing through his chest. His mutilated body crashed down a flight of stars in the back, starling a waitress who looked like an ostrich.  
Alastor tossed the tea aside and summoned a bottle of Sazerac in front of them.  
“Sometimes you gotta do things yourself,” he muttered before taking a big gulp from the bottle. Despite his powers, he enjoyed it when people did things for him, like bringing him drinks. The soul coins he had given to the ogre, flew back into his hand and vanished. 

From backstage, a woman was putting the finishing touches of makeup on her face while staring at herself in a large square mirror framed in round lights. She took a deep breath and stood up from her seat. The music stopped and shortly after, a green suit-wearing alien stepped up to the stage and announced, “Our next performer, the marvelous Mimzy!” A woman walked onto the stage. Alastor looked over and his red eyes widened. His smile grew an inch more. The woman was short and chubby, wearing a pink flapper dress and a headband with pink feathers on it. Her black heels tapped against the floor in a rhythmic pace. Her face was white and her large eyes were black with hot pink pupils. She strutted up to the microphone, proud and confident.  
Mimzy fluffed her short blonde hair and waved at the audience. Then she sang a lovely catchy jazz song from the early 1900s. Then she finished off with “Down in New Orleans,” much to Alastor’s delight. What a lovely melodic voice she had!

Alastor remembered Mimzy as a blonde-haired human, she had been a worker at a jazz club in New Orleans and she and Alastor had danced together on stage. He admired her then and still admired her now. They had shared a kiss as humans but Alastor thought of her as an affectionate friend.  
That was all before he went insane and killed her in a frenzy.  
Mimzy had been sent to Hell since she killed her husband in self-defense and was briefly a prostitute to make ends meet. 

After Mimzy sang and stepped off to the side, another demon came up to the stage. She was tall and slender with sharp teeth in a smile, black eyes, and a large round pink hat with skulls on it covering her head. Several other demons bowed as she walked up to the microphone. She took out her pink umbrella, spun it around in a twirl and did a song and dance number: “Practically Perfect in Every Way.” 

“By the time the fire has burned the restless souls down,  
I’ll tell you, yes I can,  
No matter the circumstance for one thing you shall know,  
My character is spite, shine, spic and span,  
I’m practically perfect in every way”

“For demons say  
Each sin and misdeed knows no bounds  
To hate is great and patently sound  
I’m practically perfect head to tail  
If you found a fault, it would be to no avail  
I’m so practically perfect in every way”

“Both prim and proper, graceful and stern  
So passive, at peace yet willing to TURN (briefly goes to demon form)  
I’m clean and honest, my manner refined  
And I wear hats of the sensible kind  
I suffer no nonsense and whilst I remain  
There’s nothing much else I need to explain”

“I’m practically perfect in every way  
Factually flawless, that’s my forte  
Uncanny ladies are hard to find  
Unique, not meek, great matters of mind  
I’m practically perfect, and never soiled  
Killing like a villain with victims freshly boiled  
I’m so practically perfect in every way  
Well those are my credentials  
Perhaps you have a few questions?”

“Yeah I have one!” called a boar demon. “Did you copy Mary Poppin’s song and just add your words to it?”  
The crowd laughed and clapped.  
Rosie took a bow. “Yes, so what if I did? I did it for my audience!”

On Earth, Rosie had been the CEO of a clothing company. She had also danced and met with Alastor as a human. She went to Hell due to forcing her employees to work long hours with hardly any breaks. Stern, elegant and vain, she was a perfectionist and it showed at her job. She did well when it came to organization, dressing fancy…and killing those who stood in her way. In Hell, she was an overlord and owner of an emporium.  
Like with Mimzy, she and Alastor enjoyed singing and dancing…and terrorizing others. However, they had only gotten a glimpse of each other during their individual conquests and work.  
But now was the chance for Alastor to warm up to his lovely lady friends. 

Rosie finished her song and took a bow. Alastor clapped enthusiastically. “Bravo, bravo, what an outstanding performance!”  
Alastor waved at the two performers who briefly glanced at him.  
“Who’s that?” Mimzy asked, curiously.  
“One of my fellow overlords. Haven’t interacted with him, though,” Rosie replied.  
Alastor morphed into shadow and teleported onto the stage between them.  
Both women gasped as Alastor appeared with either hand on their shoulders.  
“Why hello, lovely ladies! Care if I join you?” He kissed Rosie’s hand, then Mimzy’s.  
Rosie raised her eyebrows. “Aren’t you that super-powered radio guy that terrorized half of Hell?”  
“Yes indeedy. How do you do?”  
“Be thankful that you’re a fellow overlord,” Rosie replied. She stared into his red eyes, “…and I’ll admit, devilishly charming. You name?”  
“Alastor.”  
“I’m Rosie.”  
“Mimzy,” said the other lady, already blushing at the handsome stranger.  
“Boo!” shouted a white demon shaped like a fox. “You’re interrupting the show!”  
Alastor merely shrugged and laughed, the spotlight now on him. He conjured up his microphone staff in his right hand, which glowed red. “How about one joke before the next dance?”  
“No dad jokes, get off the stage!” the fox yelled.  
Alastor turned to the booing demon. “What time does my radio show start in Hell?”  
“No one fucking cares!” the fox yelled.  
“6:06…A-M. But thankfully, you won’t have to listen to it.”  
He snapped his fingers and the fox demon exploded in a shower of guts and blood. The other demons stepped away from the mess.  
Having the time of his afterlife, Alastor smiled even more and held Mimzy and Rosie’s hands. With a wave of his hand, his usual outfit turned into a red suit, and a white undershirt with a black bowtie. He now had black tap dancing shoes plus a top hat complete with stitches and two small pins sticking out.  
“Embarrassing fact, I can’t tap dance,” Alastor said under his breath.  
“I can teach you how,” Rosie said.  
Alastor’s red eyes curved slightly into arches, his smile genuine. “I’d like that very much.”  
The jazz band began to play a catchy tune. Alastor stood between the two women.  
“I think you may have heard this song on the radio. Ready?”  
Mimzy and Rosie nodded, already knowing the lyrics and familiar music.

Together the trio danced and sang Alastor’s favorite song: “You’re Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile.” 

“Hey, hobo man, Hey Dapper Dan  
You’ve both got your style  
But Brother, you’ve never fully dressed without a smile!”

“Your clothes may be Beau Brummelly  
They stand out a mile  
But Brother you’re never fully dressed without a smile!”

“Who cares what they’re wearing  
On Main Street or Saville Row  
It’s what you wear from ear to ear  
And not from head to toe that matters”

“So, Senator, So Janitor  
So long for a while  
Remember you’re never fully dressed without a smile!”

After a standing ovation from the audience, Rosie, Mimzy and Alastor sat together in a both. The table in front of them had a white tablecloth over it, though it was smeared with bloodstains. A small vase of black roses was placed in the center of the table.  
The brown-haired bipedal ostrich waitress came over and asked them what they’d like to order.  
“Rare venison, a side of Jambalaya, and a glass of New Orleans whiskey, 1901,” said Alastor.  
“Shrimp Creole with champagne,” Mimzy added.  
“Bouillabaisse and a glass of red wine,” Rosie said.

“Deer meat?” Mimzy asked curiously as the waitress walked away on her long yellow bird legs.  
“Yep. Still got the old hunter in me.”  
Alastor mimicked gunshots with his hands and Mimzy giggled.  
“I must say, you’re a really good singer, Alastor,” Rosie said, smiling.  
“Why thank you kindly, dear.”  
“Despite what many may say, even genocidal overlords need some time to unwind and relax.”  
“I agree with you there. Say, how did you meet Miss. Mimzy?”  
“Strangely enough, at Lilith’s Resist concert,” Mimzy replied. “Rosie wanted to sing a song for Lilith and needed a backup vocalist. Naturally enough, I volunteered.”  
“Were you nervous?” Alastor asked.  
“Nervous, terrified…and super excited! Me, singing with an overlord and beside the queen! It was too good of an opportunity to waste. Heh, I’m glad I did well on the stage, otherwise Rosie would’ve incinerated me on the spot. People soon heard about my performance and more sinners came over to my jazz club!”  
“Oh how wonderful!” Rosie replied. She then sighed. “Nothing out of the ordinary; still beating up my workers with my cattails made from hardened cat tails. (They feel like barbed steel, despite the appearance.) They still moan and complain but it seems to work. Business is business you know. There are those boring overlord meetings, occasionally discussing politics with the Magnes, the whole 66 yards. I bet that someday, my associate Franklin’s gonna get murdered and I’ll be the head of my emporium.”  
Alastor laughed. “Oh my, how intriguing. You plan to kill him?”  
“No, I’ll let mother nature do the rest.”  
“Don’t you mean…stepmother inferno?”  
Rosie rolled her eyes. “Puns are not funny.”  
“They’re punny to me,” Alastor added. “Such great classics.”  
Rosie cleared her throat, “No dad jokes. Please.”  
“Aw come on,” Alastor teased in a mocking tone, “I was about to do my “Radio not, here I come” knock knock joke.”  
Mimzy crossed her arms. “Spoilers, much?” 

The trio’s dinners had arrived: a large rotten shrimp and clams for Rosie, Creole shrimp with demon bones for Mimzy and a fresh deer head over shrimp, rice, sausage and vegetables for Alastor.  
“This is such a splendid meal,” Rosie said, satisfied.  
Alastor whipped his face with his napkin. “I agree. Just as tasty as my human victims I ate on Earth. Though I will say, in regards to my…ignorant father, nothing beats the sweet taste of vengeance!”  
Mimicking a choking sound, he leaned his entire head backwards with a loud crack and the others laughed.  
He repositioned his head back to the front.

Alastor raised his bottle of whisky as Mimzy and Rosie lifted their drinks.  
“To eternal chaos and happiness for us,” said Alastor, “and eternal damnation to our enemies.”  
“Here, here!” they all said as their glasses clinked. 

Soon, they had all finished their meals.  
Mimzy then took a closer look at Alastor. “You…act familiar. It’s like I’ve known you before.”  
Alastor tilted his head slightly. “You don’t say? Because I can say the same about you. I remember this beautiful singer I encountered at a bar in New Orleans. She was confident in her singing and loved doughnuts and desserts?”  
“Yes…yes that was me!” she exclaimed. “Heh, being busy in Hell doesn’t give you much time to think about your past life.”  
Then her eyes grew wide, suddenly fearful. “You…did you…”  
“What?” Alastor asked.  
“You were the one will killed me!”  
Alastor’s eyes moved off to the side. “No, that was a different Alastor.”  
“Phonus balonus!” Mimzy exclaimed in anger. “How many people in New Orleans have such a unique name?”  
Alastor shrugged. “A lot, I imagine.”  
Mimzy shoved Alastor off to the side and grabbed hold of his fancy red outfit. “Why? Why did you do it?”  
“You know… I don’t like…to be touched,” Alastor seethed.  
“Answer me!”  
Alastor took a breath and removed her hands from his shirt. Memories came flashing back to him. “You were about to call the coppers on me. I knew I’d be caught and my life would be over. I wasn’t in my right state of mind and...”  
Alastor stared down at his hands. He hadn’t felt this kind of regret and numbness since he watched his mother die and eat her remains. “Ending people’s lives…it was my only purpose…the one thing I could control besides broadcasting on the radio. I could lash out my frustrations and see results…I felt powerful when I did it, and I still do.”  
He paused, unsure of what to say next. He held in his oncoming tears. “I…was holding your body, feeling regret at what I had done…”  
Mimzy slowly backed away.  
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” His voice cracked slightly, despite his smile.  
“You just ended my life because you could! I tried to stop you.”  
“Sometimes, I wish you would have,” Alastor said softly. Then his regular voice came back, though it didn’t display the usual showiness in it.  
“But look at you know. You have a new life here. It’s in Hell, but you’ve made the most of it. You’re a star and everyone knows it. Aren’t you happy with your life here?”  
Mimzy shrugged. “It’s still better than death.”  
“I didn’t really know if there was going to be an afterlife or not. I…I wasn’t thinking.”  
“No, you weren’t.” Mimzy replied. “I lost the Alastor I knew, that day, and…and now he’s gone.”  
Tears fell freely from her black eyes. Alastor wiped away her tears with his finger. “I might not be human anymore, but I’m still here. Deep down, I’m still the same entertainer, but more than that, your close friend. I swear by Lucifer that I’ll never harm you again.” He held her hands and she sniffed.  
“A-apology accepted.”  
Alastor lifted up the corners of her mouth. “Don’t forget to smile, my dear. You’re never dressed without one.”  
Mimzy leaned her head into Alastor’s chest, then abruptly sat up, hands on her hips.  
“But you owe me…big time. 666 souls, daily groin kicks, plus swimming in the lake of fire.”  
Alastor grinned.  
“…without extra powers.”  
Alastor’s grin shortened.  
“So… it’s a deal then?” Alastor asked with a smirk.  
She slapped his hand away. “No deals, jackass!”  
Rosie’s eyes darted between the two of them. “Okay, this is awkward. Should I leave you two alone?”  
“No no no, sweetheart, it’s fine,” Alastor reassured her.  
“Don’t forget the midnight overlord meeting tomorrow. Lord Lucifer’s orders,” Rosie mentioned.  
“Ugh how boring,” Alastor scoffed. “One of the bad things about my status.”  
Alastor and his lady friends talked and enjoyed themselves throughout the night. It was a “dinner date” but it was also a “hanging hang out.” Afterwards. Rosie came up with the name after dinner when the three of them hung other demons from trees.  
Soon the three friends embraced (Alastor hugged them, then stood back) and they said their farewells. Although Alastor was tempted to turn them into his slaves, he decided against it. Using his powers on another overlord could prove tricky. And he already made a promise not to hurt Mimzy.  
Alastor glanced over at a casino and noticed a black and white cat winning a gambling tournament for the third time in a row. The way the cat moved and gulped down bottle after bottle of booze seemed familiar. A cyclops demon was sitting within the flames of a fireplace inside the building, sewing a quilt.  
“Hmm,” Alastor thought. “A Niffty darling…and a Husk of a gambling guy…this should be quite entertaining…”  
He finished with a low laugh.

Next time… “Shady Deals” 1973

Next time... “Daddy Dearest”


	4. Chapter Four: Deal For Little Darling (Niffty)

Stay tuned...


	5. Chapter Five: Deal For Husker (Husk)

Stay Tuned Folks


	6. Chapter Six: Meeting Alastor's Parents

Stay Tuned Folks


	7. Chapter Seven: Well, Well, Well, a Hazbin Hotel ("That's Entertainment!")

A slow ominous knocking from outside interrupted Charlie’s thoughts. She opened her eyes. It was a rhythmic knock, sounding like “shave and a haircut.” (Or was it “skunks in a barnyard”, or “imps in a cauldron?” She wasn’t sure. 

An ice cold feeling of dread spread through her veins. No other demon would ever do that kind of knock.

Unless…

She tentatively reached out her hand to the door handle, and quickly pulled it open.

Sure enough, the most feared demon in Hell was standing right outside her door.  
He towered over her, wearing dark red dress pants, a red dress shirt along with a dark red pinstriped coat underneath. His shoes were black with red hoof prints on the sides. The two black lines in the center of his dress shirt looked like an upside down cross.  
Charlie slowly looked up at his red knotted bowtie, then to his thin gray face. His beaming smile displayed yellow sharp teeth and took up much of his face. On his head were red and black tuffs of hair and fur that resembled deer ears. There were even two small black antlers coming from his head. His sclera and eyes were crimson red, with an oval shaped monocle over his right eye. He carried a magical cane which resembled a vintage microphone. 

Charlie’s face morphed into sheer terror, eyes wide as saucers.  
Eyes glowing red, the man began to speak.  
“Hell…”  
She slammed the door in his face.  
Opened the door…  
“…o.”  
Slammed it again.

Alastor stood, shocked in front of the stained glass door, smile still plastered on his face, hand and curved claw in the air. 

“Well… that was…rude,” he thought. “Usually people are too sacred to answer when I come by. Or they rush to try and please me because they know I could slaughter them at any time. I’ll just wait here then…or maybe break this door down…”

“Hey, Vaggie?” Charlie called.  
“What?” Vaggie replied in annoyance.  
Charlie flashed a nervous smile. “The Radio Demon is at the door!”  
“What?!” she demanded.  
“Uh, who?” Angel asked. He sucked erotically on his popsicle.  
“What should I do?” she asked, pulling at her lower eyelids.  
“Well, don’t let him in!” said Vaggie.

Charlie was tempted to do just that. But she also had a duty to not leave any sinners behind. She took a breath and opened the door again.  
“May I speak now?” the demon asked.  
“You may…” Charlie replied.

The man held out his gloved hand. “Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you, sweetheart, quite a pleasure.”  
He eagerly grabbed her wrist and leaned his face close to hers before strutting inside. Charlie stood, dumbfounded, her hand still out.  
“Excuse my sudden visit,” he went on, “but I saw your fiasco on a picture show and I just couldn’t resist. What a performance! Why I haven’t been that entertained since the stock market crash of 1929!”  
He bobbed his head side to side and burst into laughter. “So many orphans!”  
Vaggie suddenly pointed a spear weapon at him. “Stop right there!” She swore in Spanish under her breath: “Carbon hijo de perra! (Son of a bitch!) I know your game. And I’m not gonna let you hurt anyone here, you pompous, cheesy, talk show shitlord!”  
Angel peeked around the corner to see what was going on.  
Alastor merely laughed slightly and nudged the weapon away with his fingers.  
“Dear, if I wanted to hurt anyone here…”  
He added in a low creepy tone, “I would have done so already.”  
His red eyes briefly turned to red radio dials and radio static filled the room. He tilted his head slightly, letting his chaotic magic roam. Vaggie and Charlie were frozen in fear as they caught glimpses of red Voodoo symbols, static, and warped reality.  
Then just as quickly, the noise and magic ceased and Alastor shook his head, eyes back to full red.  
“No, I’m here because I want to help!” He bowed.  
Charlie was sure she hadn’t heard him right.  
“Say what now?” she asked, eyebrows raised.  
“Help!” he responded with another laugh. He held up his microphone staff. “Hello? Is this thing on? Testing, testing…”  
He tapped it and a glowing red eye appeared in the center. “Well, I heard you loud and clear!” the microphone responded, eye shaking in fear.  
“Um…you want to help?” Charlie asked. 

Alastor appeared behind the demon girls, hands on their backs, switching from a shadow to his regular self. Both Vaggie and Charlie flinched.  
“With…” he mentioned in an imitation of Charlie’s voice,  
“…this ridiculous thing you’re trying to do!” finishing in his normal voice. “This hotel!”  
Charlie could hear the call bell ding twice on the table, even though no one was there to ring it.  
“I want to help you run it.”  
“Uh…why?” Charlie asked, confused.  
Alastor laughed again. “Why does anyone do anything? Sheer absolute boredom! I’ve lacked inspiration for decades!”  
He placed his elbow on an annoyed Vaggie’s head. Then shoved her aside.  
“My work became mundane, lacking focus, aimless! I’ve come to crave a new form of entertainment!”  
He laughed again.  
Charlie looked downcast. “Does getting into a fist fight with a reporter count as entertainment?”  
“It’s the purest kind, my dear! Reality! True passion! After all, the world is a stage! And the stage is a world of entertainment!”  
Charlie brightened a bit. “So, does this mean that you think it’s possible to rehabilitate a demon?”  
Alastor help up a hand and laughed. “Of course not. That’s wacky nonsense! Redemption, oh the non-existent humanity! Nononono, I don’t think there’s anything left that could save such loathsome sinners! The chance given was the life they lived before; the punishment is this! He spread out his arms. “There is no undoing what is done!”  
“So then, why do you want to help me if you don’t believe in my cause?” Charlie asked.  
Alastor smirked and looked at Charlie over his shoulder. “Consider it an investment in ongoing entertainment for myself!” He pulled her close to him with his arm and twirled her around in a quick dance. “I want to watch the scum of the world struggle to climb up the hill of betterment! Only to repeatedly trip and tumble down to the fiery pit of failure.”  
“Right…” Charlie began, slowly removing his clawed hand from her shoulder.  
Alastor took her aside for a walk. “Yes indeedy! I see big things coming your way, and who better to help than I.”

“Ah, so uh, what’s the deal with Smiles over there?” Angel asked Vaggie.  
“Wait, you’ve never heard of him before?” Vaggie asked. “You’ve been here longer than me!”  
Angel shrugged his shoulders.  
“The Radio Demon, one of the most powerful beings Hell has ever seen?”  
“Eh, not big on politics,” he replied.  
Vaggie, annoyed, leaned in close to explain.  
“Decades ago, Alastor manifested in Hell, seemingly overnight. He began to topple overlords who had been dominant for centuries. That kind of raw power has never been harnessed by a mortal soul before. Then, he broadcast his carnage all throughout Hell, just so everyone could witness his ability. Sinners started calling him The Radio Demon. (As lazy as that is). Many have speculated what unimaginable force enabled him to rival our world’s most ancient and destructive evils. But one thing’s for sure: He’s an unpredictable source of danger, a wicked spirit of mystery, and a violent monster of chaos, the likes of which we can’t risk getting involved with unless we want to end up erased.”  
“Ya done?” Angel asked with a snicker. “He looks like a strawberry pimp!”  
“Well, I don’t trust him!” Vaggie argued.  
To be fair, do you trust any man? Any men? Men?” Angel asked with a slight laugh.  
Vaggie ignored him and walked up to her friend.  
“Charlie, listen to me. You just can’t believe this creep! He isn’t just a happy face! He’s a dealmaker, pure evil! He can’t be redeemed! And is most likely looking for a way to destroy everything we’re trying to do.”  
“I…” Charlie began. “…we don’t know that. Look…I know he’s bad, and I know he probably doesn’t wanna change, but the whole point of this is to give people a chance! To have faith things will be better! How can I turn someone away? I can’t. It goes against everything I’m trying to do. Everything I believe in.”  
Alastor stared in fascination at a family picture on the wall. It showed Lucifer dressed in white, Lilith in a dark purple dress, and Charlie as a little girl wearing a brown and white dress in the middle. The picture border consisted of branches and yellow eyeballs and a dried rose in the upper right hand corner.

“Such a lovely portrait! A picture of perfection! It’d be such a shame if something awful were to happen to them…”

“Just trust me,” Charlie added placing comforting hands on her girlfriend’s shoulders, “I can take care of myself.”  
Charlie,” warned Vaggie, “Whatever you do, do not make a deal with him!”  
From a distance, Alastor opened up the palm of one hand, claws curled inward. Both girls glanced in his direction, worry on their faces. 

“I’ll have these two in the palm of my hand…”

“Don’t worry, Charlie replied to Vaggie. “I picked up one thing from my Dad…” she spoke in a manly voice, “Ya don’t take shit from other demons!”  
Gathering her courage, Charlie marched over to the Radio Demon.  
“Ok, so…Al. You’re sketchy as fuck, and you clearly see what I’m trying to do here is a joke. But I don’t.”  
Red Voodoo symbols appeared around Alastor, then vanished.  
Charlie continued. “I think everyone deserves a chance to prove they can be better. So, I’m taking your offer to help. On the condition that there be no tricks or voodoo strings attached.”  
Alastor twirled his cane and held out his hand. “So it’s a deal then?”  
Flashes of eerie green light surrounded him, electricity snaking up the walls.  
“Nope!” Charlie yelled, holding out her hands. The energy stopped. “No shaking! No deals! I…hmm…”  
Charlie decided to try another approach.  
“As princess of Hell, and heir to the throne, I uh, hereby order that you help with this hotel, for a long as you desire.”  
A moment of pause…  
“Sound fair?” she asked.  
“Fair enough. Cool beans.” Alastor shrugged, walking on and making his cane disappear. Charlie breathed a sigh of relief and even did a thumbs up.  
Alastor stopped and spotted Vaggie off to the side. He smirked in a way outside observers would describe as lecherous. He tickled her under her chin with a finger.  
“Smile, my dear! You know you’re never fully dressed without one!”  
Alastor hummed happily on his way, while Vaggie growled in disgust and rage.  
“So…where is your hotel staff?” Alastor asked.  
“Uh, well…” Charlie began. Alastor peered at Vaggie through his monocle. “Oh ho ho ho, you’re going to need more than that.”  
He walked over towards Angel.  
“And what can you do, my effeminate fellow?”  
Angel grinned. “I can suck your dick!”  
“Ha! No.” Alastor deadpanned.  
“Your loss,” Angel said with a slight laugh. Alastor summoned his cane.  
“Well, this just won’t do!” Alastor exclaimed. “I suppose I can cash in a few favors to liven things up!”

The spell came easily in his mind: “dife sèvitè, reveye.”

He snapped his fingers and a fire sparked to life in a small circular fireplace. Animal skeletons decorated either side of the wall.  
A dark figure plopped down onto the chimney floor.  
Alastor walked over and picked up the creature with his hand. A large single yellow eye was revealed. Angel, Vaggie, and Charlie peered at the creature. In a puff of smoke and a squeak, the creature revealed herself. A cute cyclops girl was wearing a pink dress with a poodle on the front, her short wide hair dark magenta with a streak of yellow.  
“This little darling is Niffty!” Alastor introduced, before dropping her. She landed on her feet.  
“Hi! I’m Niffty!” she greeted with a wave. “It’s nice to meet you! It’s been a while since I’ve made new friends!” She laughed slightly and her pupil grew smaller, darting in circles.  
“Why are you all women?” she asked. “Have any men here?! I’m sorry, that’s rude.” She missed the fact that Angel was male, for obvious reasons.  
She briefly picked up Charlie, while Vaggie held her spear defensively at her.  
“Oh man, this place is filthy!” she exclaimed, running around and lifting up couch cushions. “It really needs a lady’s touch, which is weird, because you’re all ladies, no offence.” She chewed on a black spider she found, then rushed toward some stained glass windows.  
She darted around, using a dust ruffle to clean them. “Oh my gosh, this is awful! No, no, no…Nope!”  
She raced around, removing cobwebs, then poking at a piece of a voodoo doll. Well, it was actually a live blue beetle doll that Alastor had stabbed with a clothing pin for Niffty to play with. Alastor looked amused, while the others stared in disbelief. 

“So fortunate of me to have met her in Hell. A former chimney sweeper in the 20th century. Heard she died from too much smoke. Services are still good! Though, I didn’t give her much of an option to begin with…”

Meanwhile, at a casino, a cat demon placed a joker, an ace, a 2, and a fourth card down on the table. He had black and white fur, wore a black top hat and had red wings with card suits decorated on them. He also had long red eyebrows and wore a red bow tie.  
“Ha!” he declared in triumph. “Read ‘em and weep, boys!”  
He suddenly felt himself being forcefully pulled out of the room through space and time.  
“Full…whoa!”

“Transpòte ganbadeur la.”

He ducked as a curtain of red energy surrounded the existing space. Voodoo symbols flashed in the background along with eight yellow eyes, a creepy voodoo skull and a purple skeleton of a worm-like creature. Another voodoo skull with horns appeared for a moment not too far from tan ghost-like spirits with creepy faces and a row of jagged teeth.

The cat demon figured he must have had too much booze to drink.

“…the hell?”

As the images faded, he soon found himself at the hotel bar, not in the previous room at the casino. A large “Come and play Blackjack” sign took up much of the wall behind him. Most peculiar, the gray wood walls were missing halfway up, replaced by the red themed décor of the hotel. Husk was sitting in a portion of the casino he was in. It felt like he was in a house with no roof surrounded by the outside world.

“What the fuck is this?”  
He saw Alastor and pointed an accusing claw.  
“You.”  
“Ah, Husker, my good friend!” Alastor cheerfully greeted. “Glad you could make it!”  
Alastor’s head briefly had the appearance of large antlers sticking out from either side. When he moved it, it was revealed to be an antler skull with glowing green eyes hanging in the background. Snakes were wrapped around one of the white curtains supporting a bar stand. “Big Booze,” “Welcome” and “Big Soul” signs were placed overhead on the stand. Neon green card suits consisted of the designs at the bottom of the stand.  
“Don’t you “Husker” me, you son of a bitch!” Husk spat, and swiped Alastor’s hand aside from his shoulder. “I was about to win the whole damn pot!”  
Husk stared in anger as the stacks of money and chips on the table vanished in static.  
“Good to see you too!” added Alastor.  
Husk face palmed. “What the hell do you want with me this time?”  
Alastor grabbed hold of him, startling him so much that cards fell from his hands.  
“My friend, I am doing some charity work, so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services! I hope that’s okay.”  
Husk was taken aback. “Are you shittin’ me?!”  
“No, I don’t think so,” Alastor replied. He casually brushed off his sleeves.  
Husk shoved the Radio Demon off him. “You thought it would be some kind of big fuckin’ riot just to pull me outta nowhere? You think I’m some kinda fuckin’ clown?”  
“Maybe.”  
Audience laughter emitted from the microphone.  
“I ain’t doin’ no fuckin’ charity job,” Husk protested.  
Alastor appeared next to him. “Well I figured you would be the perfect face to man the front desk of this fine establishment.”  
He pointed toward the bar stand with the staff. The sound of audience clapping came from his radio staff.  
“With your charming smile and welcoming energy…”  
Alastor spread the corners of Husk’s mouth upward into a demonic smile of yellow teeth. Husk frowned seconds after he let go.  
“…this job was made for you!”  
Alastor strutted over toward the bar stand, the soles of his shoes revealing red hoof prints as he walked.  
“Don’t worry, my friend,” Alastor continued, “I can make this more welcoming…if you wish.”  
With a curve of his fingers, a green bottle of cheap booze appeared on the counter.  
Husk stared with wide eyes, suddenly very thirsty. He swore he could hear the sound of a slot machine.  
“What, you think you can buy me with a wink and some cheap booze?!” He took the bottle on anger. “Well you can!”  
He immediately guzzled it down and walked away.

“Too easy,” thought Alastor. 

By this time, Charlie, Vaggie and Angel Dust had arrived to see what the commotion was about. Vaggie rushed toward the bar, furious.  
“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” yelled the moth demon. “No, no bar, no alcohol. This is supposed to be a place that discourages sin! Not some kind of…mouth, brothel, man-cave…”  
Angel lunged himself into her, knocking her to the floor.  
“Shut up! Shut! Up! We are keeping this.” He pointed at Husk with multiple gloved hands.  
He slid up to Husk. “Hey,” he said in a flirtatious voice.  
“Go fuck yourself,” Husk deadpanned, drinking his booze.  
“Only if you watch me,” Angel retorted.  
To make matters worse for Husk, Charlie leaned in close to him, excitement and red stars in her eyes.  
“Oh my gosh! Welcome to the Happy Hotel! You are going to love it here!”  
“I lost the ability to love years ago,” Husk replied, gulping down more booze.  
Alastor walked in, an ever-present grin on his face.  
“So, what do you think?”  
Charlie ran over to him. “This is amazing!” she beamed.  
“It’s okay,” Vaggie said from nearby, arms crossed.

Alastor laughed and pulled the two girls close to him. “This is going to be very entertaining!”

Alastor conjured fire in his hand…Charlie stared in wonder at the flames and the voodoo symbols. He pushed Vaggie aside and changed his attire. He now wore a fancy red suit with a white undershirt and a black bow tie. A red top hat appeared on his head, complete with small spikes along the black band and two needles sticking out from the top. He twirled Charlie around in a dance, the princess looking stunned. Pointing his finger over her head, he transformed Charlie’s outfit. Her blonde hair was now short and wavy. She wore an elegant black and red dress, black gloves, a pink hat with a small black bow and black heels. She looked like a dapper lady from the early 20th century.

Charlie stared at her conjured clothing in amazement.  
Vaggie was on the floor, fuming.  
Alastor picked Charlie up and threw her into the air. She yelped in delight and landed gracefully next to him. Two glowing apples and a skull with deer horns flashed in the background.  
Reality had been altered to the Radio Demon’s liking. The entire room was lit in psychedelic colors. Voodoo symbols and shapes were etched in every nook and cranny, including a pair of pink claws reaching for the door. Alastor and Charlie waltzed in the spotlight as electro swing music began to play in the distance. The all-encompassing noise, though, was the signature radio-static sound.

Alastor sang his reprise to Charlie:  
“You have a dream  
You wish to tell  
And it’s so laughable  
But hey kid, what the hell! “

Charlie found herself sliding down one of the apple-etched railings, Alastor leading the way. They landed on the lower floor as Alastor continued his reprise.  
Deer statues and painted antlers were everywhere.  
Back at the bar stand, Husk sat looking bored. Vaggie hissed at Angel grabbing onto her shoulder, while Niffty stared in wonder. Alastor snapped his fingers and their outfits changed as well.  
Angel was wearing a neon pink suit, Husk a pink bow tie, Vaggie a dark dress, with her hair now smooth and long, and finally Niffty, with a cute top hat with small flowers. 

“‘Cause you’re one of a kind  
A charming demon belle!  
Now let’s give these burning fools a place to dwell  
(Take it, boys!)”

Alastor snapped his fingers once more and shadowy imps rose to life from a hole in the ground. The happy spirits played a trumpet, a tuba, and a drum set. Charlie snapped her fingers to the beat, while Vaggie watched with worry. She reached out to her friend but was pulled away by Alastor. He enveloped the group into a tight hug, followed by glowing images of dark spirits staring at them. Niffty watched in amazement, but not the other three.  
Alastor pulled Husk and Angel close again. He rubbed Angel’s head with a white hat and went on his merry way. Husk gave him the bird as he left.  
Vaggie stood, annoyed in the spotlight. Using his cane, Alastor added a feathered peacock hat and a white fox fur to her outfit. Then out of nowhere, he slapped her butt.  
“Pompous pervert!” Vaggie thought in rage as he wondered away.  
Alastor danced some more, kicking a horned skull to the side. In the background, Niffy happily swept up the bits of bone. 

“Inside of every demon is a lost cause  
But we’ll dress ‘em up now with just a smile!  
(With a smile!)  
And we’ll chlorinate this cesspool  
With some old redemption flair  
And show these simpletons some proper class and style!  
(What’s in style? Oh!)”

He made his way to the circular fireplace, where he waved his staff. Shadows arrived to join the party, including a shadowy version of himself, with large antlers and fangs. He made it disappear in a poof, then snuck toward Charlie. He led her in an upbeat dance, spinning her around, helping her match her steps to his. Charlie blushed when toyed with her cheeks. As Charlie was led away, Vaggie stood in the background, horrified and disgusted. What was happening to her friend?  
Charlie and Alastor laughed as they danced, the princess locked in a happy trance. 

“Here below the ground  
I’m sure you’re plan is sound!  
They’ll spend a little time  
Down at this Hazbin Ho…”

Alastor was about to finish his song, when an explosion burst apart a window behind him. 

Niffty stared in amazement, shouting “Whoo!” before she was blasted backwards, the door hitting her in the face.

Alastor’s spell soon wore off and everyone was back in their regular clothes. Alastor, Husk (still drinking), Niffty, Charlie, Angel, and Vaggie, peered out of the hole to see what was going on. Vaggie had her weapon at the ready.

Looking skyward, the group saw a cracked blimp in the air. It had a small random band aid with a sad face on it along the rim. A familiar snake villain popped out of his hideout.  
“Ha!” Sir Pentious laughed. “Well, well, well, look who it is harboring the striped freak! We meet again, Alastor!”  
Apparently, he was also rivals with Alastor.  
But Alastor simply asked, “Do I know you?”  
The snake boss looked disappointed. Then he said in anger, “Oh yes you do! And this time, I have the element of…surprise!”  
The villain raced toward his pink velvet chair and pulled a lever. A metallic cannon lowered to the ground. The cannon fired up with pink energy as pink smoke appeared around them.  
“He laughed manically. “I’m so evil!”  
Then he added, “I have an Egg army!”

“Well, we have an Alastor,” Charlie responded.

Alastor snapped his fingers, red tendrils of smoke rising from his hand. The weapon froze in mid fire and a fiery portal opened up below the blimp.

A horde of black tendrils rose from the hole, latching onto the ship. One tentacle ripped off the cannon and threw it into another smaller portal, causing it to explode in pink smoke. One of the tentacles had already smashed a hole in the large round window.  
Sir Pentious looked on in shock as his Egg Bois slammed against the wall (one of them read #Ouch.) One of the eggs cracked open, spilling out yellowish brains and small organs among the stains of yok. Sir Pentious and another minion were thrown against the wall.  
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” he screamed before he was slammed against the ceiling by a black limb.  
“Oh, that hurt!” he cried.  
Sir Pentious screamed as he was dragged along the floor and lifted up slightly. He was held in place, surrounded by the wrapped up tendril. At once, the tendril shrunk and squeezed the helpless snake. The Egg Bois ran around screaming as black cracks appeared on the floor and walls.  
From the outside, more black tendrils were closing in. Red voodoo symbols appeared around the blimp.

“Ede m 'sèrviteur.”  
Four horned shadowy spirits with red auras floated around, wearing toothy grins. 

The tendrils were now wrapped around the entire blimp, holding it in place like thick black vines. 

Red radio waves filled Alastor’s eyes as he circled his fingers and worked is magic. Voodoo symbols appeared all around him as he altered the state of reality. Radio static consumed the air.  
The vines thickened and completely enclosed the blimp. The spirits swooped around it in excitement, with echoing shrieks. The aura around the tendrils glowed a fiery yellow, the same color as the portal rim. 

“Kalfu! Destriksyon pa bra nwa.”

Alastor closed his four-fingered hand which began to glow. A red drop of blood fell from his glowing hand. The tendrils proceeded to crush the blimp. Pink rays of light shot from the center and the blimp exploded in a loud BOOM!

Pink smoke spread everywhere as the spirits sped away. The tendrils broke into severed bloody pieces that rained down to the ground. Alastor smiled victoriously, while behind them, the group of five stared in utter terror and shock. (Save for Niffty who had a small smile on her face). 

“Well, I’m starved!” Alastor exclaimed, turning around to face the group. Who wants some jambalaya?” He spread his arms out. “My mother once showed me a wonderful recipe for jambalaya! In fact, it nearly killed her!”  
He laughed as he led the way back to the hotel. The others followed.  
“You could say the kick was right out of Hell!”  
He added while laughing at his own joke, “Oh, I’m on a roll!”  
Charlie and Niffty smiled while Husk, Angel, and Vaggie looked on with concern. Angel blew Husk a kiss, which earned the druggie demon a glare from the gambler. Charlie turned to Vaggie excitedly. Vaggie reluctantly went along with Charlie’s idea, even giving her a small supporting smile. As long as Charlie was happy, then she was alright, too.  
From up above, the hotel looked like a mashed-up haunted house. An old dark train was perched on a balcony, with some monstrous faces carved in. A ship, reminiscent of the Titanic, was leaning upwards against the building as part of the structure. An old carousel served as part of the upper balcony and windows. Skull designs decorated the small windows in a row. Finally, on top of a giant yellow eye, was the sign “Happy Hotel” supported by pillars of worn wood.  
Alastor continued, “Yes, sir, this is the start of some real changes down here! The game is set! Now…”

He glanced up and pointed his finger toward the sign. Pink electricity shot out and made contact with the sign.  
The sign now read “Hazbin Hotel.”

“Stay tuned,” he finished with a low sinister laugh.


End file.
